Swan Song
by Quatre-sama
Summary: This is a look at Kalasin's decision to send Thayet and Buri away from Racchia - told from Buri's mother's point-of-view. How does one say goodbye to their child, knowing full well it is the last time they'll be together?


Tortall and its inhabitants are Tamora Pierce's creations, and used with her permission.

**Swan Song**  
  
"There is one way left," Kalasin announces gravely. She and Thayet have just returned from the warlord's chambers. Her somber expression—even more beautiful than usual—tells me more than her words do. I have known her all of my life. I have been her companion since we were children. And I know the weight of the words she shares, and I see the truth in her expression. This is her end. Her argument with _jin_ Wilima has enraged him beyond compare, and our people will suffer more for it, unless drastic action is taken.  
  
"He refuses to listen," Thayet growls. She fingers the curve of her nose, her hazel eyes dark with fury. "He wants to pass another law—so that the K'mir can't gather in groups larger than five."  
  
My heart stops for a moment. How can such a monster exist?  
  
Buriram, always keenly aware of Thayet's feelings, takes her gently by the arm. "We will make him listen." I feel a surge of pride for my daughter. She is K'miri through and through—a credit to the Hua Ma clan. And no royal lowlander can change or break her spirit.  
  
Kalasin's grim eyes meet mine, and I know what is coming. Her final action for her people has been decided.  
  
"You must pack your things, Thayet. You are to go far from here—to the convent Mother of Mountains. Buri will go with you, and Pathom will escort your entourage out of the city." Her voice is brisk, but strong. I know that it hurts her to send her daughter off, but it is the only way to keep her safe.  
  
"This would be different, were I a boy," Thayet whispers. Her shoulders slump in defeat.  
  
"Look at me, child." I take her chin in my hand, lifting her face toward mine. She is like my own kin in so many ways, and I do not treat her with the respect her lowland title deserves. I treat her the way that a daughter of a great K'mir deserves—and we tell our children when they are being silly. "Do you think you would have the power to save our people by changing laws?"  
  
She nods slightly.  
  
"Lowlanders who steal our horses and enslave us would not listen to law. They would sell us east to Tusaine, or some other slave-nation. They would be more secretive about the horses they steal, the children they beat, the women they rape, and the men they kill. But it will still happen.  
  
"Your duty," I continue, "is to teach the people about the K'mir. Show them that we are humans who deserve freedom and life. Show them the horrors they inflict on our way of life and the ills of a warlord or a nation that allows it. Make _them_ want to change Sarain. Your job is to grow up and live to educate. Marry. Have children who will help change the Eastern lands. Teach the peasants our history. Show them how to combat unjust rulers."  
  
Kalasin rests a calming hand on my shoulder. "She is right, Thayet. You're being female does not hinder us. It is the way the Gods have decided our course of actions will be. And now we accept what they have given us, and take matters into our hands."  
  
She crosses the room, gazing out the window at the Saren capital spread out before her eyes. She looks down at the square below the palace, then meets my eyes.  
  
"Mother?" Thayet asks, her expression perplexed. "You're...?"  
  
Kalasin embraces her child. "You must go tomorrow. This palace will not be a safe haven for you much longer."  
  
Buri's hand slips into mine. "The death chant?" she asks with a soft quiver. She knows that this is Kalasin's last-resort plan. I nod, not trusting my voice to speak.  
  
"Always remember this, Thayet," Kalasin instructs. Her voice is low and edgy. "Sometimes we feel as though all doors have been closed upon us. We feel as if our cause is lost. But when the Gods close a door, they open a window. I have found my destiny. You will have to find your own." Her eyes fill with tears as she cups her daughters face in her hands.  
  
"I love you," Thayet says thickly. Buri clutches my arm tightly, silently voicing identical sentiments.  
  
"What you're doing is right," Buri whispers, not looking at Kalasin. "I wish I could help."  
  
Kalasin turns from her daughter to address mine. "Your duty is to ensure my daughter's safety, Buriram Tourakom. If you can promise me that, you will have served me greater than any other in this world."  
  
Thayet squares her shoulders, her expression fierce and confident. "Come, Buri. We will leave by nightfall. The sooner the better."  
  
The girls exit, Buri looking back at me over her shoulder one last time. My heart aches, but I am K'miri. Our duty—our death—is more important. I do this for our people. She will live in a better world. All K'mir will. Kalasin's death will guarantee it.


End file.
